Guarding the Quarterback (Champions of the Heart #1)

by Liz Matis

  I adjusted the temperature. “Better?”

  “No.”

  “Seriously?” I pulled her into my arms and she shivered. “Wow, you are cold. I’ll warm you up.” I kissed her under the hot spray. Steam rose around us, but I wasn’t sure if the mist was from the water or if it was coming off of me.

  “Better?”

  “Much.” She smiled.

  Using the bar of soap, I lathered her body, memorizing every dip, every curve as my hands roamed freely.

  “Your turn,” she said, holding her hand out for the soap.

  I shook my head. “We are saving the earth here, remember?” I rubbed my body against hers, sharing the suds between us.

  She giggled. “You’re crazy.” We stood under the spray to rinse off. She looked up at me. “That was fun.”

  A charged moment hung between us. The feel of the water rushing around us, the sound of a thousand tiny droplets, the touch of our slick bodies, and the scent of my masculine soap captured an intimacy that I’ve never had with a woman.

  Before I could make my move, Alexa turned off the shower. “Playtime is over.”

  Assuming her abruptness had something to do with being available to the security team, I grabbed a heated towel from the bar and patted Alexa’s face, then her neck, then—

  “I can dry myself off,” she barked like I’d committed a criminal offense.

  That was it. I tossed the towel to the floor. She was beyond frustrating. Couldn’t she see I was trying to be romantic? I picked her up and took her to my bed.

  “Dean!”

  With both of us sopping wet, I threw her onto the mattress, and before she could protest, I pounced on her. She wiggled beneath me, wanting me to take her fast and hard.

  “Not this time, baby doll.” I kissed her soft and slow. She bucked, wanting more, always wanting more. She’d get it, but in my own sweet time.

  Kissing her was like drinking apple bourbon. Smooth and sweet going down, packing a punch as it hit me in the gut, then the slow burn firing my blood. All from just kissing her. Drunk, I left her lips to trail little licks on her neck and down to her breasts.

  I blew a breath over her nipple, and when it puckered, I fastened my mouth on it and sucked gently while rolling my tongue. Her breathy moans filled the room until I thought she would come. She pleaded for me stop, and then to never stop, erotic music to my ears.

  My lips seared a path down to the flat plane of her tummy, my hands holding her hips so she couldn’t squirm even as she tried to push my head down. God, she was strong. I whipped my head away.

  “Dean, don’t tease me.”

  From the apex of her thighs, I looked up. “I’m not trying to tease you, Alexa. I’m pleasuring you.

  “This is torture,” she mumbled, “Against the Geneva Convention.”

  I chuckled. Easing her ache, I licked her pussy until it was swollen and rosy. I slid in two fingers, gently massaging while I continued to toy with the nub of her sex with my tongue.

  “Dean. Stop. I can’t…” She sucked in a breath. “Take it.”

  “Trust me, Alexa,” I said, my voice hoarse and low.

  I went back to work with my tongue, hooking my fingers inside her. Her body lifted off the mattress as she tensed, and her breath hitched as she struggled for air until I thought I might have to revive her with a little mouth to mouth. Then she let go. Sobbing my name like I’d left her instead of staying the course and finishing her off in glorious waves.

  My hand moved over her shaking body, soothing her. “Alexa, you are so delicious. So beautiful.”

  “Don’t ever do that again,” she said, her chest still heaving for air.

  “What?” I asked, confused, stunned by her reaction. “Give you a rocking orgasm?”

  “No. Make me want more.”

  Still confused, I asked, “More orgasms?”

  A brief sadness shifted over her face, then annoyance. “Of course, orgasms.”

  I smiled, but in a way I was hoping for a different answer. I should’ve been relieved she was cool with the status quo. Instead I was the one who was left wanting something I couldn’t express. “Babe, that’s not a problem.”

  I grabbed a condom from the nightstand and tossed it to her.

  “Roll it on.”

  Alexa hated taking orders, which made it all the more gratifying when she relented and obeyed. I nudged her back to the mattress when she was done. In the dim light I could see the annoyance was gone, her misty blue eyes only shining with desire. I flinched as she raked her nails down my abs.

  “Dean, patience is not one of my virtues.”

  “Ah, but it is one of mine.” I grabbed her wrists together with one hand and pulled them above her head. Her blue eyes widened, but she didn’t put up a fight as I slid into her hot, wet heat, welcoming me home.

  Home.

  This wasn’t about getting off. It wasn’t even about the sex. Instead of release I wanted a connection with Alexa beyond the raw need of our bodies joining. I craved a mind-to-mind union, a heart-to-heart bonding. Man, I hadn’t turned into a wuss at all. It was so much worse than that.

  I’d fallen in love.

  Chapter 13

  Alexa

  I tried to resist the slow burn smoldering in my blood. Tried to turn myself cold to it. But Dean melted the icy depths within me. Shined a light in the dark corners of my psyche. The cool and collected Reeves was nowhere to be found.

  My body craved hard and fast, but in the deep recesses of my heart, in my soul, I yearned for this. Needed his deep, desperate thrusts. Delusional from his kisses, I pretended Dean’s body was telling me without words how he felt. And it felt like love.

  This was dangerous. He was dangerous.

  “This is real, Alexa.”

  What was real? Us? Then he was just as foolish as I was. We could never work. Our relationship was a mirage. The hot fusion of our bodies was merely a result of us being thrown together in close confines without any outlet but each other.

  “Fuck me, Dean.” I begged for him to go full throttle. The raw sex I could handle—the raw emotions flooding in overwhelmed me. Tears pricked my eyes.

  “No, Alexa, this feels too good, too right.” His voice came out in a strangled whisper, like he was struggling to keep the pace passionate and meaningful.

  Hanging on for dear life, I dug my nails into the muscular cords of Dean’s shoulders.

  “That’s it, Alexa. Mark me.” His teeth grazed my neck.

  The slow burn surged into a raging firestorm. I teetered on the brink of madness. And then I fell. Which side I would come out on was unclear as pleasure tore through my entire being.

  “Stay,” he murmured against my ear as he rolled us over.

  Instead of panic at his soft plea, I settled into his embrace like a satisfied kitten. I might have even purred.

  *

  Over the next few weeks, Dean chalked up his ongoing stomach problems to nerves. From worry over making the playoffs to actually making them, he was a mess. He scoffed when I suggested he was worried about the death threat or that something could be medically wrong. Men.

  The playoff game to decide who would go to the Super Bowl was about to start. After vomiting most of the night, Dean had looked pale and drawn this morning. I drove him to the stadium early so the team doctors could evaluate him. Since as a mere girlfriend, I was banned from the locker room, I had Oslo radio updates on Dean’s condition. With an IV administered to replace fluids, it would be a game-time decision if he played. But I knew Dean inside and out. They’d have to sedate him to keep him off the field.

  Since the team hadn’t taken the field yet, I was indulging in a stadium bratwurst roll with the works.

  “Hey, Reeves,” Ian called from behind me.

  The sound of my last name took a moment to register in my brain. Funny how in just a few short months, I’d grown to prefer Alexa to Reeves.

  I turned. “Yeah, boss?”

  “I just talked to Wal
ker. He’s going to play. By the way, he says you’re annoyingly professional.”

  “That’s me.” Why had Dean gone out of his way to lie for me?

  “I thought you should know that Billings is pulling the plug on Walker’s detail when the season’s over.”

  “But what if we haven’t caught the person who wrote those letters?” The owner’s pretty speech about protecting his players was bullshit. His only concern was a championship. Yet, it was Dean’s only concern too, foolishly risking his health by playing today. Men.

  “I’m sure Walker can afford his own security, though I doubt he’ll continue since he didn’t want you in the first place.”

  As if I needed a reminder. “Well, maybe if we were honest about the recent rash of letters, he might take this more seriously.”

  “Reeves, we’ve been through this. And you’ve done a great job. I was going to wait to tell you, but I’m promoting you to a lead investigator.”

  Was this Dean’s doing? Was this his way of getting me out of the bodyguard business? Or had my eight years of hard work finally paid off? Why wasn’t I more excited about the prospect? This was beyond what I’d hoped for. After seeing man after man hired after me move up the ladder, I’d be the first female at Ian’s Security to be a lead investigator.

  “I’m heading up to Billings’ suite. We’ll talk more when this is over.”

  Over? But I didn’t want this assignment to be over. Over meant Dean and I were over. Would Dean go back to his models and actresses? Would I go back to being Reeves? My stomach roiled. Maybe I was coming down with Dean’s plague. But I was in denial like him. I tossed the bratwurst in the garbage.

  I couldn’t worry about the future now. I had a job to do.

  *

  If I had been sitting, I’d be on the edge of my seat, but instead I was standing on it so I could see over everyone else who was standing as the clock ticked down. Some of the players’ wives held hands, and others clasped their hands as if they were praying. The crowd noise was deafening. Down by five, the Kings needed a touchdown, and at the ten-yard line with fifteen seconds left to play, the Kings were poised to take the lead for the win.

  I looked away. One part of me couldn’t watch, knowing how important a victory was to Dean, while another part of me knew I should be scanning the stadium for threats. Should be. I returned my gaze to the field. He took the snap and the clock ticked down to fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven…

  And then he threw a bullet to his receiver in the end zone, who at first bobbled the catch, and then drew it to his body for the score.

  The fans roared, bouncing up and down like eighty thousand pogo sticks. My happiness for Dean was short-lived as fans started to hop over the fencing. My training kicked in. On autopilot I jumped from the seat and sprinted down the steps to the fence.

  A cop grabbed me as I hit the sideline and I flipped my VIP pass. Wrong girl, buddy. Hopefully, they were as diligent with everyone else, but with the media and fans swarming the field, control would be impossible.

  Blood pounded in my veins and I gulped in air like I raced a marathon. Panic threatened to take over the training. This was when it would happen. I knew it in my bones.

  Where the fuck were Oslo and Williams?

  A crowd surrounded Dean as Samantha Jameson interviewed the star of the game. I darted over and took stock. From the other side of the mob, I spotted a Stars cheerleader. That was odd. Why would a Stars cheerleader try to congratulate the Kings’ quarterback? Then recognition lit my brain. The girl from the bar, dressed like the opponent’s cheerleaders. Hell, maybe she was.

  “Purple Rain is approaching. Stars cheerleader.” Only static crackled from my earpiece.

  Damn it to hell! My fingers itched for my gun, but with so many people milling about, it would be reckless to draw. All I could do was throw myself at Dean and hope the crazed cheerleader didn’t have a gun and take a head shot. But I had to get to him first. Using my height to my advantage, I snaked my way through the crowd, my heart pounding in fear that I wouldn’t get to Dean in time. That I would lose him.

  And I’d never told him that I’d fallen in love with him. He’d think I saved him because it was my job, but it was so much more than that. This was personal. This was real. This was love.

  As I reached within a foot of Dean, he looked up. Our gazes locked, and I knew I had to tell him, just in case… in case…

  I leapt into his arms. “I love you, Dean.”

  Chapter 14

  Dean

  I caught Alexa as she hit me with the full force of her body, like she was channeling a three-hundred-pound defensive tackle. Alexa loved me? Something was wrong. The cool professional bodyguard wouldn’t jump into my arms with declarations of love in front of stadium full of people unless…

  Fuck. I looked up just as Alexa shouted in my ear to get down. Like a scene out of a B-movie horror flick, a cheerleader with a crazed look in her eyes and raised a knife, lunged at us. Us? A downward thrust would surely hit Alexa.

  Still in the zone from dodging linebackers all day, my reflexes didn’t fail me this time. I turned my body and dropped to the ground with Alexa in my arms, landing hard on top of her. She grunted her displeasure. My body covered every inch of her precious yet foolish self.

  “Motherfucker,” I heard Oslo yell from behind me. “It’s clear. I got the bitch.”

  To be safe, I kept Alexa protected even as she struggled beneath me. I lifted my head to see the screaming crowd disperse as a dozen cops swarmed in to take control of the scene. Jameson, the star reporter who’d been in tougher situations than this, refused to budge, asking her cameraman if he got it all. Despite the chaos in this corner of the field, the celebration was in full swing.

  “Get off of me,” Alexa yelled. Wiggling, she sputtered, “Oh, God. Now I know what it feels like to be tackled.”

  She was joking about this? What if the psycho cheerleader had had a gun? What if she’d thrown the knife? Alexa could’ve been killed. I could have lost her. Fury rose in my blood. How dare she take a chance like that?

  Lifting myself off, I grabbed her shoulders and shook, hoping some sense would rattle loose in that stubborn brain of hers. “You little fool. Don’t ever do that again.”

  “It’s my job.” She struggled to a sitting position.

  “To die for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you had died, then she might as well have killed me too, Alexa.”

  She winced and dropped her gaze.

  Realizing how tight my hold was, I loosened my grip. “What good would living be without you? I may be just a job to you, but you’re more than my bodyguard.”

  She was shaking on her own with no help for me.

  I lifted her chin. Tears streamed down her face. Aww, fuck. I hadn’t meant to make her cry. “I love you, Alexa. If something happens to you, it happens to me.”

  “That’s just the adrenaline talking.”

  Maybe it was. I sounded like a babbling love-struck fool. “Is that why you said you loved me?”

  “I… I was trying to get your attention.” She wiped her tears away and looked nervously around like she was embarrassed.

  “Little liar.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about me. Just a scratch,” Oslo said. The police handcuffed the stalker.

  “I love you, Dean,” the cheerleader screamed as she was hauled away. Yeah, she gave a whole new meaning to love you to death. I had no idea who she was or why she would want me dead.

  Once she was out of sight I stood, offering my hand to Alexa. Ignoring it, she sprang up on her own to attend to Oslo’s injury.

  “It’s just a scratch,” she agreed.

  “But… but, I’m going to need stitches,” pouted Oslo. I laughed at the big and tough bodyguard’s expression.

  “Butterfly ones,” Alexa said as if her coworker had only received a paper cut instead of a deep slice to the skin.

  “I would shake your hand, but…” I nodded to
the slash that needed more than butterfly stitches. “Thanks, bro.”

  “Whoa! You thank him and I get yelled at?” Alexa’s voice rose.

  Samantha stuck a microphone between us. “Walker, why was the Stars cheerleader trying to kill you?”

  Both Alexa and I turned our heads. I was going to tell Samantha to fuck off. What Alexa would have said to the reporter remained a mystery as Ryan Terell—the retired tight end for the Cougars and current sports analyst for the network—pulled his wife away. “Jesus, Samantha, trouble follows you everywhere.”

  “I have a nose for news. And I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

  “I can see that. Now leave them alone.”

  “It’s my job,” Samantha told her husband.

  Where had I heard that before? Alexa crossed her arms and gave me a smug look as Samantha stuck the microphone back in my face.

  “Not now,” I said.

  “Walker promises you an exclusive.” Terell looked from his wife to me, nodding his head. “Don’t you, Walker?”

  “Absolutely.” I’d agree to anything to make this all go away for now. I should be celebrating with my teammates. And then there was Alexa, who was not acting like the adoring girlfriend I had hoped she would be now that my stalker had been caught.

  Carlos pushed his way through. “What are you doing? They’re ready to present the divisional trophy. You’re the MVP.”

  It seemed like more than half the stadium, including my agent, had no idea what had just happened. The police officer in charge said, “Go ahead. You can answer questions later.”

  Still I hesitated to leave Alexa. I squeezed her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course I am. Go.”

  “We’ll figured out everything later,” I called over my shoulder.

  As I accepted the trophy, so many emotions whirled inside me that I had to choke back tears. Elation and pride from this win, sadness that my father wasn’t there to share it with me, happiness that I knew my mom was watching it on television, and the remnants of panic and fear of Alexa risking her life for me. I was now determined to win it all, the big game and my only love.