by T. J. Kline
She pinched her lips together, her eyes misting. “You know it’s not.”
Hope flared hot and bright in his chest. “Then why would you think that I feel that way?”
“Because.” She started to rise from the couch, to run away from the conversation, but he wasn’t about to let her and pulled her back to his lap. Bethany refused to look at him, her body rigid in his arms.
“Bethany?”
“Because you’re Grant McQuaid.” She said it as if it should be self-explanatory.
“So?” He breathed the word against her neck and felt her shiver in his arms.
She glanced backward, looking at him over her shoulder. “You could have you pick of women anywhere. Why would you give up everything to stay here?”
“You mean, with you?” She nodded, unwilling to speak. Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip. “Bethany, look at me.” He ran his finger along her jawline, turning her to face him. “You are amazing. An incredible woman. Any man would be an idiot not to give his right arm for you.”
Before he could finish what he wanted to say, she turned in his lap, her legs to one side, and captured his mouth. She didn’t wait for him to finish telling her that he wanted to stay, that he wanted to be there for her in a way James’ father had never been. She didn’t hesitate or wait for him to guide her to him. For the first time since he’d met her, Bethany took what she wanted because she wanted it.
Her hands cupped his face, her fingers covering his ears as her tongue plunged between his lips. She tasted salty, like the popcorn they’d had during the movie. But sweet as well. The hand that had been at her jaw, plunged into her hair, dragging her closer, their breath mingling seamlessly. Her kiss was innocent and dangerous, seductive and sweet, every puzzling contradiction that made up the woman in his lap. The fingers of his free hand moved to her back, sliding her down his legs and pulling her upper body against his chest. It was an awkward position that didn’t allow him the freedom to hold her, to touch her, but he was afraid that if he moved, she’d run away again.
“Grant,” she whispered, her lips against his, “I might be out of practice but I think there are at least twenty other positions that would be more comfortable than this.”
He smiled against her lips. Her practicality knew no bounds. Just one of the many things he adored about her. “I guess which position we choose depends on who wants to be in control.”
She stood up and pressed her hand against his shoulder, urging him to lie back before lying down beside him on the couch, one of her legs between his. “My house, my rules.”
She gave him a wicked grin that made him wonder how out of practice she could possibly be. The woman was a natural seductress, sweet innocence with just a hint of spice.
“Bethany,” he warned as she leaned over him, pressing her lips against his.
“Shh, we’ll figure out logistics later. Stop trying to ruin our first real date.”
He was helpless against her allure and, yet, he found he didn’t mind one bit.
BETHANY KNEW HOPE was a dangerous thing. She hadn’t missed the regret in Grant’s eyes when he talked about leaving. It would happen, regardless of what she’d hoped for. She accepted that his job was just a part of who Grant was. She would have to pick up the pieces, again. The way she had when Matthew left, the way she had when her mother had practically forced her to move out last year. At least this time, it was only her heart on the line. But, oh, how thoroughly it would break.
Oddly, it didn’t make her pause now the way it should have. She’d been alone for a long time and Grant had made her face the loneliness, and what she’d kept both herself and James from experiencing over the past six years due to her fear.
James had missed having a man in his life. It was obvious from the way he practically worshiped the ground Grant walked on. While being his favorite football player might have initiated the devotion, the respectable man Grant had proved himself to be had only fueled James’ adoration. Even when he ignored her rules, Bethany could see that Grant had done it out of genuine concern for James’ well-being.
It was going to hurt when he left. Maybe even more than Matthew’s betrayal. She’d known Matthew behaved like a spoiled child, that he had always expected her to be the responsible one. But Grant was a man, a gentleman through and through. He’d reached into her soul in a short time to find the aching places, the never-before-touched places that whispered words of future love.
She liked him, a lot. Not just as a person, but as a man. He stirred things in her. Not just desire. But a deep yearning for what should have been. Long buried images of white picket fences and more children running in the yard tried to surface, but Bethany couldn’t let them rise up. Hope was one thing, but when it had no basis in reality, it was nothing more than a dream, and dreams were folly.
“You okay?” Grant’s question drew her back to the present. With his hand at her waist, her t-shirt rode up over her stomach slightly and his thumb brushed over the sensitive flesh, making her insides quiver with dizzying delight.
“Yes.”
He didn’t look convinced and arched a brow in question. When she didn’t say more, he sat up. “I should probably go.”
Grant brushed his finger over her cheek and along the side of her neck. She wanted to cry at the tenderness in the touch and the burn he ignited within her for more—more than she was willing to ask for, more than he was willing to offer. She knew without a shadow of a doubt he would leave, knew it would break her heart into pieces when he did, but trying to bank this fire burning within her was just as painful.
Bethany slid from the couch and stood, taking his hand. He followed suit, forlorn and filled with remorse as he followed her into the hallway. Instead of leading him to the door, she took him to the stairs.
“Where are you going?” He stopped midstep and she could see the uncertainty in his face before desire flared.
“Come with me.” She moved to the second step, so that she was almost eye-to-eye with him. “Spend tonight with me.”
His jaw clenched and she could see the muscle working, ticking with the seconds before he finally answered, his voice strained. “You have no idea how much I want to, but we can’t.”
The heated wash of embarrassment swept over her and she was grateful for the dark hallway. She took a step back but he caught her.
“It’s just that I didn’t come—” he searched for the word he wanted to use “—prepared.”
Her impression of Grant rose several notches, even as disappointment seeped into every crevice of her needy body. She wasn’t the type of woman to sleep around. Hell, she hadn’t even slept with Matthew until just before their wedding, but Grant had a way of making her forget more than just the list of dating rules she’d set for herself. He seemed to make her want to throw out the entire book. She’d assumed that men like Grant, those in his line of work, were always prepared. He was a celebrity, after all.
What was wrong with her? Instead of being so frustrated with what she couldn’t have tonight, she knew she should have been thrilled that he hadn’t simply assumed that sleeping with her was a given.
But she wanted him. For the first time in six years, she wanted to be intimate with someone, and taking that giant leap, only to find out it wasn’t going to happen was like ice water to her face in a sound sleep and it stopped her in her tracks. The blush in her cheeks still burned, even when he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone and smiled down at her.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you get embarrassed?” He breathed slowly, deeply, and laid his cheek on the top of her head, pulling her into his embrace. Bethany wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to hold him and wound her arms around his waist. The man was solid muscle, from head to toe. His back was long and lean, tense beneath her hands. Where her cheek pressed against his chest was a broad expanse of cotton, and she
inhaled the scent of him. The spicy musk of his cologne mixed with soap and a scent that was all Grant, like warm summer afternoons at the park and crisp fall days. He smelled like home.
“You’re going to kill me, Bethany,” he mumbled into her hair.
His fingers trailed over the back of her neck, beneath her hair while the other slid down her spine to her lower back. Her body responded without her permission, arching into him and he released a quiet sigh of longing.
“Stay with me tonight, please?” The request fell quietly from her lips against his chest before she could stop it, almost as if she were whispering it to his heart.
She hated the pleading note in her voice, but she needed him the way she needed her heart to keep beating or air in her lungs.
“Okay, but only on one condition.” His answer surprised her and she leaned back slightly, trying to look into his eyes. His hand slid over her rear, cupping it and pressing her against his groin, his arousal exciting and frightening. “It may be your house but we follow my rules tonight.”
She had no idea what that meant but as the blood throbbed in her veins with renewed desire and every nerve ending in her body seemed to be on high alert, she didn’t care.
Chapter Seventeen
THE QUIET PLEA in her voice was his undoing. Grant knew he couldn’t give her everything he wanted to, couldn’t come close to what she deserved, couldn’t even promise her more than a few days but he could give her that much. If a few days was all they might have to hold on to, if circumstances came crashing down around them, he was going to make sure she would never regret those few days. He knew he would never forget them.
Taking her hand, Grant led her up the stairs to her room, closing the door behind her and turning the lock. Her gaze found his, hesitant.
“You sure you want this?” She chewed at the soft inner flesh of her lower lip and he felt himself swell with hunger as she made her decision. “Bethany, you can still change your mind about this.”
He knew she would assume this was unprotected sex since he’d already told her he hadn’t brought any condoms with him. He had. He never went anywhere without them, although most of the time he was slapping it into the inebriated hand of one of the other players bent on a one-night stand. He’d seen far too many players trust a groupie’s word only to end up standing at the altar with a baby nearby.
But Bethany wasn’t some one-night stand. She wasn’t a woman to toy with. She was a forever kind of woman, the kind he’d always hoped to find, after his career had ended. So tonight, he would be the man she needed, not the one she thought she wanted.
“I want you.”
Her voice was a whisper of sound in the silence, the only light in her room filtering in through the sheer curtains from the full moon hanging high over her yard. Her house, while small, stood out among the other older homes in the neighborhood since it was one of only three two-stories on the block, which meant no one could see into the room from nearby houses. It was a blessing for him because it meant he could admire her body bathed in moonlight.
“Come here.”
He pulled her toward him, wrapping one arm around her waist as his mouth captured hers in a kiss that shook his very resolve. Her arms found his shoulders as she clung to him and he felt his body answer with raging hunger.
But this wasn’t about him—it was about Bethany, reminding her of the love she deserved to find. His lips moved over her jaw, tipping her head backward with a sigh, and he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses over her neck. One hand slid under the hem of her t-shirt, his fingers gliding over the indentations of her ribs, over the soft cotton padding of her bra, and Grant smiled against her skin. His sweet, innocent woman didn’t have time for things like lace and lingerie, opting instead for something practical, and he’d be damned if it didn’t make him want her even more.
Bethany had no idea how seductive she was without even trying. The scent of her hair, the sweet taste of her skin, her soft sighs and the way she dug her fingers into the muscles of his back when his lips found a spot on her neck that covered her arms in goose bumps. He brushed his thumb over the curve her breast, just above the top edge of the cup, and felt her shiver against him, arching into his hand. Grant tugged her t-shirt over her head, tossing it aside and looking down at her.
She was perfection. For a woman so petite, she had full breasts and a narrow waist that curved out into womanly hips. She wasn’t at all like the stick-thin, straight-bodied women who chased so many of the players at camp. She had curves, soft edges, dips and valleys he couldn’t wait to explore. His hands slid to her back and unclasped the bra, dragging it from her arms, exposing her perfection to his hungry gaze. He held his breath as he took in every inch of her, unable to tear his gaze away but even less able to keep from touching her. His fingertips grazed over the outer curve of her breast before his palm covered her. Bethany’s body trembled, the nipple pebbling against his hand, begging for his attention. Grant smiled at her response to his caress and sat at the edge of her bed, drawing her between his legs, pressing light kisses to her cleavage before covering one taut peak with his mouth.
His name was torn from her lips on a ragged breath as her fingers gripped his shoulders, clinging to him. Grant slid his hands into the waistband of her pants, easing them down her legs and pulling her to straddle his lap. She cupped his jaw, staring into his eyes with reverence as he lifted her, still clutching him as if he was her only lifeline, and laid her on the bed. Grant hovered over her still fully clothed and Bethany snuck her hands under his shirt, letting her fingers trace the lines of his muscles, making him agonize for a release he knew he wouldn’t allow himself.
Jerking his shirt over his head, Grant tossed it near hers on the floor, sliding up her body, relishing the feel of their bare skin heating one another to a volatile explosion of hungry desire. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pressing the two of them together and he couldn’t help but imagine himself buried deep within her. Just the thought was almost enough to make him give in to his longing to possess her fully.
Grant held his breath, trying to slow himself, to restrain his desire, but Bethany had other plans and slid her hands to the front of his jeans, tugging at the button of his pants. He sucked in a hissing breath of sheer ecstasy as her fingers found him, straining to be free of the confining denim.
Grant pressed his forehead to her collarbone, his lips brushing over the sensitive flesh of her breasts. “Baby, you can’t touch me.”
“What?” Her gorgeous hazel eyes were slightly dazed, slumberous with desire. “But—”
“My rules, remember?”
He swirled his tongue over the peak and her back bowed, arching into him and pressing her fully against his erection. Grant growled low in his throat, fighting to rein in his passion. He moved her hands to his chest.
“Trust me.”
Bethany nodded slightly and his heart soared. It was a huge step for her and he knew it. He also knew he couldn’t betray her trust. His hand moved over the curves of her body, and he followed the path with his lips, whispering his praise over every inch of her skin. He wasn’t a romantic man but her body was poetry, ethereal sweetness and seduction, practically glowing in the pale light with her dark hair spread over the pillow. His fingers traced the lines of her hips, over the plane of her stomach before dipping low to find the core of her desire and Bethany gasped in surprised ecstasy.
“Grant.” She reached for his hand. “Wait.”
He nipped at the point of her hip, his teeth barely grazing her flesh and she arched into his touch. Grant wrapped his arm around her, moving his shoulders between her thighs and she reached for him. His gaze crashed into hers and he could see the fire inside her blazing. The heat from her skin branded him. His own body was screaming at him, begging for release, but he ignored the demand in favor of her pleasure.
“Let me do this for you.”
/> Grant brushed his thumb over the folds of her and Bethany’s body bucked against him as she closed her eyes in sweet surrender to her desire. He was greedy for more from her, tasting her, teasing her, letting his lips and tongue dance over her and Bethany let go of the control she’d clung to for far too long.
“Grant, please,” she begged, unable to remain still as he found the secret places of her body that excited her even further, leaving her gasping and limp in his arms.
His hands worshiped her as her body quivered, waves of release washing over her one after another as he refused to let it end. Bethany lay unable to move with the most bewitching smile on her lips.
Moving over her, Grant let his denim-encased thigh brush against her hypersensitive flesh, congratulating himself as she gasped in awed pleasure again. He circled her nipple with his tongue, his own smile breaking against her skin as his fingers continued to toy with her.
“You have to stop,” she pleaded.
“Stop? I don’t remember that being one of my rules,” he warned, his voice a low growl against her throat and she practically purred in pleasure.
Grant wasn’t sure how much more of this torture he could take. He was feverish with need for her, wanted to plunge himself into her, to reach her soul and connect them as one. But this wasn’t the right time and he was no stranger to self-denial. He’d beaten his body into submission for years in training. He wasn’t going to do anything that Bethany might regret later.
Bethany sighed as he rolled onto his back, still clothed from the waist down, and she curled against his chest.
“Just let me rest for a minute,” she murmured sleepily against his skin, each brush of her lips sending sharp jolts of desire straight to his groin.