Quarterback's Virgin

by Ivy Jordan

  She never questioned the fact I’d just moved in, which I found a little odd. She was gracious, polite, and it was possible that her refinement kept her from asking such questions.

  Gavin arrived for dinner, which he’d had catered from a gourmet restaurant he said was his favorite. The food was delicious, and when he told me I’d be expected to handle dinners from there on out, I was worried my tuna casserole wasn’t going to be well received.

  I loved spending time with Isabella, and after dinner, I helped her with homework, picked out her night clothes so she could get a bath, and even snuck her up a before-bed treat of cookies and milk.

  I hated for her to go to bed, leaving me alone with Gavin. He was sweet, and very attentive when Isabella was around, leaving me to wonder how he’d be when she wasn’t.

  “Isabella is asleep,” I said, poking my head into Gavin’s office.

  “I’ll be up for a while. You can go on to bed without me. Isabella needs to be awakened by seven thirty, and breakfast by eight,” he said quickly.

  I was a bit relieved, but felt a strange rejection from him. This was my first night here, and it felt odd walking up the spiral staircase alone and climbing into the large bed. I didn’t know when he’d come to bed, or what he’d expect when he did.

  My alarm went off, waking me from the slumber I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen into. I never heard Gavin come to bed, but there he was beside me.

  His shirtless body was only partially covered by the thin, Egyptian-cotton sheet. My eyes lingered on his chest, tan and tight. My body reacted with a yearning I hadn’t expected.

  He rustled under the sheet, turning to his side. I slipped out of the bed without disturbing him and knocked softly on Isabella’s door. “Come in,” she said.

  She was already up, picking out clothes for the day when I came into her room. “Good morning,” I said cheerfully, surprised to see her up.

  She smiled as she laid out her clothes onto the bed. “I’ll be down in thirty minutes,” she said politely.

  “Of course. What would you like for breakfast?” I asked.

  “Just fruit and some juice,” she replied.

  When she turned to head into her bathroom, I felt that same strange rejection from the night before. This is just a job, Stella.

  I wasn’t sure what Gavin would like for breakfast, so I made bacon, eggs, pancakes, and cut up fresh fruit. When he came downstairs, Isabella was eating her fruit, sipping her juice, and deep into her chapter book.

  He wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me in close. His lips pressed against mine, soft, sensual, like we were truly in love.

  My knees weakened, my body melted into his arms as he held me against the kitchen counter. When he pulled back, he winked, and quickly turned his attentions to the coffee maker where I’d made a fresh pot. Isabella hadn’t even looked up for the display of affection, which was solely for her benefit. At least I think it was for her benefit.

  This wasn’t just a job. At least, it wasn’t like any job I’d ever had.

  Chapter Two

  Gavin

  Stella was a beautiful woman, and after only a week with Isabella, she’d proven to be a very wise choice on my part.

  I watched her with my daughter, how she lovingly attended to her every need. She would be an amazing mother one day. Isabella was lucky to have her.

  “There is a charity event this evening,” I said, realizing I hadn’t given her much warning.

  Her bright-green eyes widened as she stared across the breakfast table in my direction. “Tonight?” she asked.

  “Yes. I apologize for the late invitation. This is an event for a client, and I just found out myself,” I assured her.

  She nodded, but I could tell she was nervous. I wondered if she’d ever been to a formal event before, and if not, how would she act?

  “I’ll have Stephanie from my office help you with all the last-minute details,” I said, pushing my coffee mug to my lips.

  My eyes lifted over the mug, watching her push her scrambled eggs across the plate. Her nails were painted pink, not professionally, and not well. Her hair was long, blonde, but not styled, and she didn’t seem to wear much makeup, not that she needed it on any other occasion, but tonight would be special. This was the first public outing, the one where she’d be introduced as my girlfriend. I needed it to be perfect. I needed her to be perfect. “She’ll arrange an appointment at the spa,” I said, scooting my chair back and standing to leave.

  “What about Isabella?” she asked, her eyes filled with a genuine concern.

  “I’ll make arrangements for her to get home, and to have someone stay with her,” I assured her.

  “A new woman?” Stephanie pried as I gave her the assignment of handling Stella’s needs.

  I smiled, but didn’t answer. Speaking about my personal life wasn’t something I did at the office, or anywhere. Stephanie knew enough. She didn’t need to know more.

  “I’ll handle it,” she promised, and then slipped out of my office.

  I wasn’t sure why I was nervous. This wasn’t the first time I’d taken a woman to a formal event. There was just something different about Stella. I hadn’t even tried to sleep with her yet, even though there were nights my dick was so hard I could barely sleep beside her.

  She was sweet, a little naïve, and always seemed nervous when I was around. I promised I wouldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want, but I wasn’t sure how long I could wait for her to warm up to me.

  Stephanie informed me that Stella was being properly taken care of, and hinted around for me to give her details about the new mystery woman in my life.

  “I’m gonna take off early,” I laughed, ignoring Stephanie’s sleek form standing in front of my desk.

  “Have a good time tonight,” she said, her bright-red lips parted and sensuous.

  I knew she was after me, and had been ever since I hired her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t attractive; hell, my dick stiffened every time she bent over. I wasn’t willing to involve myself in anything messy. That’s why Stella was so important. It was all the benefits, with none of the mess. Isabella didn’t need to see anymore dysfunction in her life than she already had. Every time I looked at Stephanie’s perfectly manicured nails, I pictured them digging into my flesh in anger. I knew I was busy, too busy for a real relationship. It pissed women off, made them jealous, and jealous women had a tendency to create drama.

  I snuck out of the office, slipped into my black Porsche, and drove home. My mind was on women. I missed the touch of a woman, and I knew if Stella didn’t warm up soon, I was going to have to take matters into my own hands. I made sure there was nothing in the agreement that stopped me from visiting a female friend late at night for benefits not received at home. Still, I didn’t want to. The risk of being caught meant that Isabella would possibly find out. That was a risk I wasn’t willing to take, at least not yet.

  The house was quiet when I entered. Isabella was outside, swimming while the sitter watched. I slid upstairs, pushed through my bedroom doors, and noticed the gorgeous red gown spread out on the bed. There wasn’t any sign of Stella, so I began to undress. I assumed she was still out, working on her last minute touches since I wasn’t due home for another hour.

  I slipped out of my clothes, and stretched in front of the mirror. Yeah, I still got it!

  Going to the gym twice a week was really paying off. I looked better at thirty-eight than I had at twenty-eight.

  I grabbed my towel from the back of the closet door, loosely wrapped it around my hips, and pushed open the bathroom door.

  Stella stood there, her frame long and lean, covered only by sheer white panties. Her breasts were small, but displayed a perkiness I loved. My eyes lingered on her hips, wide, but lean. My dick reacted with a quick jump beneath the towel as blood rushed between my legs. My balls clenched upward, tightening against my body as she jumped, covering her breasts with beautiful, manicured hands. The pink polish matched th
e color of her nipple, sending more blood to my member than I could control.

  My towel flinched as my own hand gripped at the material to hold it in place. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were home yet,” I apologized.

  She didn’t speak. She just stood there, her hands covering her breasts, and her red-painted lips parted, quickly matching the color of her blushing cheeks.

  “I was just hopping in the shower,” I said, suddenly calmed, turned-on, and relentlessly after a reaction.

  My hand released its grip on the towel it held in place, letting it drop to the floor. Her eyes drifted immediately to my cock, half-hard, but still impressive. I watched her carefully, looking for a green light to make my move without receiving one. Her eyes quickly moved back up my body, only making contact with mine briefly before landing on the floor. “I’ll let you get ready,” she mumbled, sliding past me, her hand brushing my chest as she passed.

  I slid into the shower, turned the water to cold, and tried to shake off the tension created between my legs and in my mind. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

  Blood slowly left my member as the cool water rolled down my face, my chest, and my legs. Even if she had given me the green light, tonight wasn’t the night. It was too romantic, being out in public, dressed in formal attire. It would feel like a date, possibly confuse her—or myself, for that matter. Tonight was pretend. There was no need to confuse reality and make-believe.

  “Are you decent?” I asked before opening the bathroom door to enter the bedroom.

  “Yes,” she replied softly.

  I opened the door to find her standing there in front of the large mirror. The red gown that was on the bed now flowed along her body, clinging to all the right parts. The long slit in the side ran up her leg, offering a sneak peek at her smooth, tan skin. The back was open, revealing the most sensual part of a woman: the arch just above her tailbone. “You look amazing,” I gasped.

  She blushed. I loved that she seemed not to realize the full extent of her beauty, or its impact on men.

  “Thank you,” she replied.

  Her makeup was applied professionally, perfectly, and her hair styled in a loose up-do that showed off the long line of her neck. I couldn’t have envisioned a more perfect woman in my dreams.

  Our driver arrived, whisked us away to the banquet hall, and I proudly walked into the room with Stella on my arm.

  She was impressive, not showing any signs of nerves amongst the other guests, even though I knew she must have been a wreck on the inside.

  “How did you two meet?” Jack, an associate, asked.

  I was debating on throwing out the original story I’d mentioned, figuring she hadn’t had time to prepare. “I was spending time in Barcelona, soaking up inspiration for my art, when Gavin walked into my favorite coffee shop,” Stella said without hesitation.

  My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard as she continued to give details about the coffee shop, and how she’d declined my advances. That wasn’t part of the story I’d given her, but the way she told it, I believed it happened.

  “He showed up there the next two days in a row. Finally, I couldn’t resist. Although, if truth be told, I fought to say no to his first offer,” she smiled in my direction as she spoke.

  The topic quickly jumped from how we met to interest in Stella’s work. She spoke so eloquently about her passion that anyone near was immediately sucked into her words.

  We danced, ate, and Stella wowed anyone I introduced her to, except Stephanie, whose red nails were sharp as razors, and out for blood. Yeah, I was glad I dodged that bullet. It was obvious she could be one wildly jealous woman.

  “Barcelona?” Stephanie interrupted Stella from her story.

  She nodded and smiled.

  “I spent time there last year. Where did you stay?” she asked, her tone sopping with sarcasm.

  “I spent most of my time on the sea, but I did stay in La Rambla for several months,” Stela replied without hesitation.

  “So, you are familiar with Palau de la Musica Catalina?” she asked.

  It was obvious she was trying to stump her, not believing the backstory I’d created for her. I gripped her arm tightly, pulled her in close. “Can I steal you away for a moment?” I asked, eyeing Stephanie with a disgusted glare.

  “Yes, of course. I was honored with tickets to see Leonidas Kavakos and Enrico Pace. The hall was beautiful,” Stella responded.

  I smiled at Stephanie, who now doubted her own doubt. I pulled Stella away, whispered, “You’re amazing,” in her ear, and spun her onto the dance floor.

  “I knew I better do my homework,” she giggled, snuggling her face into my neck.

  Her moves were as graceful as her demeanor, pulling the attention of every man in the place to us.

  It was a perfect night.

  Chapter Three

  Stella

  The night of the charity ball had gone so well, but Gavin seemed to be more distant than ever. He stayed up most nights, slipping into bed after I’d gone to sleep. He made sure to show affection whenever Isabella was around, but barely spoke to me when she wasn’t.

  “I’m not sure I can do this,” I whined on the phone to Tiffany.

  “You signed a contract. It sounds like things are going exactly as he said they would,” she replied.

  “It’s just weird,” I admitted.

  She laughed and then let out a long sigh. “Are you starting to think this is real?” she asked.

  “No,” I insisted.

  Was I?

  “Be careful, Stella. This is a business transaction, nothing more,” she warned.

  Maybe it was just hormones. I was feeling lonely the last couple weeks without my regular booty calls from Hans.

  “I know. I’m just…” I stopped myself from saying horny. It was so vulgar.

  “Stella, get a vibrator,” Tiffany said quickly, as if she could read my mind.

  I laughed. “You’re right,” I agreed.

  “Stella, let’s go!” Isabella pulled on my arm.

  I loved seeing her get so excited. We’d set up a studio in the guest house by the pool, and now each Thursday afternoon became a ritual to buy more paints, brushes, and canvas.

  I shoved my phone into my purse and took Isabella’s hand, letting her lead me out the front door.

  My red sports car that Gavin had purchased for me was a blast to drive, and even though I’d pouted when returning my Kia to the lot, I hadn’t thought about it even once since.

  “Are you and my dad getting married?” Isabella asked.

  “Izzy!” I shrieked, shocked at such a question.

  She hadn’t really asked much about her father and my relationship, and for me, that was best. “I don’t know about marriage,” I said quickly.

  “You don’t love him?” she asked.

  “Of course I do. Your father is an amazing man,” I said, fulfilling section 7B in my contract: always tell the child you love each other, make her feel secure in your relationship.

  “Is it because he’s older?” she asked, thumbing through the radio stations from the passenger seat of my car.

  “No,” I laughed.

  “He works out a lot. He’s in better shape than most twenty-year-olds,” she insisted.

  My tongue slid across my bottom lip as I remembered his naked body in the bathroom. He was muscular, toned, and tan. His legs were thick and powerful, his thighs looked as though they were made of steel. What hung between them, his half-hard cock, was larger than most I’d seen fully erect. There was nothing wrong with Gavin Bellefonte’s body. Maybe he wasn’t pleased with my body. My breasts were small, my hips wide, but he had obviously been aroused in that moment.

  There were no pictures of other women anywhere in the house, not even stuffed into the back of his closet. Yes, I snooped. I wondered about Isabella’s mother, who she was, what she looked like. What type of women did Gavin Bellefonte like?

  “Why all the questions?” I asked, pulling into the specialt
y art store.

  “I like you. You’re not like the others,” she said, and then quickly climbed out of the car.

  I was stunned for a moment. ‘Not like the others.’ What others? What were the others like?

  My contract restricted me from asking Isabella anything about her mother, or other women that were in her life. If she offered, I of course could not be held liable, but I was not to ask.

  It was killing me not to ask as Izzy bounced around the store. She picked out a few new paint brushes and several new oil paints before gripping my hand in hers. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  I fought back tears of joy as I stared into her bright blue eyes. “For what?” I mumbled.

  “For moving here. I hope you never leave. That’s why I want you to get married,” she smiled.

  Wow. Just wow!

  “Thank you for allowing me to stay,” I said sweetly.

  “Promise me you won’t leave,” she insisted sternly.

  My heart filled with panic. That was a promise I couldn’t make. It wasn’t like I was living a fairy tale; this was a business contract, and it would most certainly end. I took a deep breath. She would be eighteen once the contract ended, then I could continue to be in her life if we both so chose. It wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t with her father then, right?

  “I promise,” I said softly.

  I dressed for our first family date. My mind continued to go over and over the conversation Isabella and I had earlier that day. Should I have promised her that?

  “You look stunning,” Gavin said, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  I clasped my earring and let my hands drop to his. My eyes lingered on our image as I stood in front of the large mirror. We really did make a beautiful couple.

  This was as affectionate as he’d been in weeks, at least with Izzy not around. My body melted into his, goosebumps formed on my skin, and I could feel my heart swelling in my chest as I took in our image.

  “Just warming up for tonight,” he whispered in my ear before kissing my neck.